


Absent Friends

by Malkontent



Category: Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Mystery Antagonist, Reunions, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkontent/pseuds/Malkontent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the end of The Graveyard Book, Nobody Owens has grown into a worldly young man, but now a new adventure calls him to the ends of the earth. Beneath the ice of the artic wastes a new friend waits to join Bod on a quest against an old evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absent Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenakis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenakis/gifts).



> Xenakis: Happy Holidays! I hope you have as much fun reading this story as I had writing it! Truth be told, Graveyard book wasn't even what we were matched on, but when I saw your prompt I knew that this story had to be written. Enjoy!

The massive icebreaker crashed slowly through the arctic wasteland, its steel bulk creaking and groaning as it crumbled the frozen plain in front of it, sweeping the ice steadily aside in it’s wake. The insistent sound of the driving engines was punctuated by the loud explosions of the ice shelf disintegrating in its path. On the foredeck a lone figure, tall and thoughtful, stood watching the endless frozen landscape crawl past at a measured pace. The air was clear and clean, and the young man seemed not to notice the bitter cold that broke around the ship in sympathy with the shattering ice.

Occasionally a member of the twenty man crew would come out to the foredeck to adjust some equipment or to smoke, but they paid no attention to the man who stood there. Their gaze seemed simply to slide off of him just as the ice slid past the reinforced hull of the ship, and the only notice they seemed to take of him was when they complained that somehow their food stores were always coming up short.

His name was Nobody Owens, and he had learned many things in the five years since he had left the small English graveyard. There was more than one way to remain unseen in this world.

He had gone East, mostly, over mainland Europe. For a time he hitchhiked across France and Germany, taking odd jobs and handouts along the way. In Prague he stayed for a time with a Jewish rabbi, who taught him kabbalah and the art of creating golems from clay with words of power. In Russia he learned of the witchcraft of Baba Yaga from her great granddaughter, who presented him with an intricately carved knife. From her he also learned of the secrets that had kept Rasputin alive even beyond the veil of death, although she would not teach them to him, however much he pleaded. From Russia he moved on to Mongolia, where the windy, breathless steppes became his home for a season. In China he stayed at a Buddhist temple; in Japan at a Shinto shrine. He studied the I-Ching and the works of Sun Tzu, Zhuge Liang and Kong Zi and their philosophies of war and peace.

He took ship for America and what he found there disappointed him. He had heard it described as the land of opportunity, a land of plenty, but he found only a nation of opulence and divisiveness and broken dreams, awash in a sea of politics without temperance and patriotism without history. Still, he kept moving, driven by the wanderlust and curiosity of youth; across the great mountains and rivers, down dusty highways and forest paths, through metropolises and one-stoplight towns. He met farmers and businessmen, ministers and ex-hippies. He felt the heartbeat of America and in the end decided that maybe it was a worthwhile place after all, although he knew he would never call it home.

Above all he kept his eyes open, and he learned.

He was in Memphis when it happened, in a small bar on the outskirts of town, listening to a young woman with a guitar sing about love and loss and pain with a mild, haunting tone. All at once and with startling clarity he knew that he was needed, and that it was time to travel north. He didn’t know where he was going or why, but he knew it was important.

So north he went, through Kentucky and Ohio, across the great lakes into Canada. It was in Churchhill, Manitoba that he boarded the icebreaker, with its pole-bound crew of scientists and oil prospectors. He knew that the ship would be there and that it was going where he needed it to, although he couldn’t say how he knew.

For weeks, he paced the deck patiently, or else he read from the few books that he had taken with him in a threadbare knapsack. He could feel the pull calling him ever further north, but at the moment he was at the mercy of the ship’s tedious pace.

Now he stood at the tip of the forecastle and peered out over the endless white expanse, a featureless frozen plane, and he knew that he was close. His sharp eyes scanned the ice shelf and presently he saw what he was looking for. It was a small, black dot, completely swallowed up in the ocean of white, but it was there. He picked up his bag and pulled his thick coat tighter around himself, feeling the reassuring weight of the knife at his belt.

A moment later he was gone.

The hulking ship continued on its course, completely unaware of his absence as he set off across the ice at a brisk pace.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

It was about three hours before the black dot began to resolve itself into a coherent image. In the unending twilight of the northern reaches his sense of time was skewed; the dim sun would barely peek up over the horizon, only to set again a few hours later. It was a cavern, a hole in the ice, though the endless white plain gave him no sense of its size at that distance. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of blistering cold and hard trekking over packed ice and snow he came to the mouth of the cavern.

It was large, perhaps the size of a city bus, and steam issued from its mouth, suggesting that the air inside was warmer than the frigid ice-field. Through the fog he could see that the ice sloped gently down into the mouth of the cave, leading deep into the cavern and out of sight.

He set down his pack and stopped to catch his breathe, but as soon as he looked back up he saw two glinting eyes peering at him from the fog. They were animal eyes, cold and hard; the eyes of a wolf.

For a long moment Nobody stared into the fog, his hand slowly moving down to the dagger at his side. The eyes stared back at him coldly, and then suddenly they were gone.

He took a step back as a woman stepped out of the cave. She was young, perhaps twenty-five, although there was something in her face that suggested she was old beyond her years. Her bright red hair was already tinged with streaks of grey and her face was pale and smooth and strangely beautiful. From head to toe she was covered in a rugged fur coat and thick leather boots. Altogether she gave the impression of a woman who was practical to a fault.

“You’re late.” she said, matter-of-factly, and there was a slight accent to her voice that Bod found intensely familiar.

“I... do I know you?” he asked hesitantly.

“No.” she said, “You knew my mother. My name is Celestina Lupescu.”

Bod nodded.

“Miss Lupescu. She was a good woman. She taught me a lot. I... I was very sorry to hear about... what happened.”

Celestina nodded.

“She died well.”

Bod looked around awkwardly. For a moment the only sound was the arctic wind.

“I never knew she had children.”

“Just one.” Celestina said, “The Hounds of God find little time to settle down.”

“Then are you...?” bod asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Her lip curled almost imperceptibly into a half-smile.

“It runs in the family.”

Now that Bod had a minute to catch his breathe he felt the pull even stronger than ever. It was tugging him downward, into the mouth of the cave. Into the darkness.

“This... may sound like a stupid question.” Bod admitted, “...but do you know why I’m here?”

She nodded.

“I do. I trust you remember your guardian.”

“Silas!” Bod exclaimed. It had been five years since he had seen the dark man who had raised him in the graveyard, “Is he here? Is he in trouble?”

“He would say he does not get into trouble.” she said, “And this time he would be wrong.”

She took a few steps towards Bod, her eyes darting over him. He found himself keenly aware of his ragged appearance. He had not shaved in a week and his face was coarse with stubble, his wavy hair long and uncombed. Still, underneath it all he was handsome in his own way.

“He isn’t one for many words, but he spoke of you. I certainly hope you end up being worth his praise.”

Bod felt the color rising to his cheeks as he cleared his throat awkwardly. He didn’t know what he had been expecting to find here at the end of the world, but this certainly wasn’t it.

“You know…” he said, “Your mother said something similar the first time she met me.”

Celestina raised one eyebrow.

“Did she?”

She turned and began walking back into the cave, leaving Bod to stare confusedly after her. As she disappeared into the mist she looked back over her shoulder briefly.

“Well?” she said, seeing him standing there, “Are you coming in or are you going to stand there until the Blajini inherit the Earth?”

Bod didn’t know what she meant by that, but he rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag. Celestina seemed to have inherited her mother’s sense of tact. He hoped that she would be able to conjure up some of her better qualities as well.

A few feet into the ice cave the steam grew so thick that he had to put one hand along the slick wall and tread carefully to prevent himself from falling. As he proceeded he could feel the air around him growing warmer and his footing growing firmer. Finally, after a few dozen yards, the steam began to clear and he found himself emerging into a long cavern carved out of packed earth. The only light came from a small campfire which had been built against one wall of the hallway. Along the other wall stood a stack of boxes and backpacks of various sizes. There was also a sled and a harness, the type normally pulled by dogs, but there was no sign of whatever dogs had been pulling it. Celestina busied herself rummaging in one of the backpacks.

“I thought there was no solid ground under the arctic ice…” Bod whispered to himself.

“There isn’t.” Celestina responded without turning around, “We’re not in the Arctic anymore. Not exactly, anyway. There are many names for where we are, most of them meaningless.”

“The borderlands?” Bod guessed, remembering one of the last things Silas had said to him.

“That is one name.” Celestina said.

“Then you’re part of the Honour Guard?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” She said with a sigh, “Many of which you already know the answer to.”

Bod grinned. She was definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Speaking of questions, you never answered mine from earlier. Why am I here?”

“I did answer you. Your guardian is in trouble.” She turned and looked at him for a moment as if that should be the end of the discussion. Seeing the confusion evident on his face she sighed and continued.

“For a long time the Honour Guard was busy dealing with the Jacks. Breaking their hold on the world was not easy, and many things fell by the wayside, including this place. We had heard rumors over a century ago that something had taken up residence here. Something evil. But we could not spare anyone to investigate.”

“Finally the business with the Jacks ended and Silas decided to come here to see what was going on. He never came back. I followed but there was no sign of him.”

She turned and gestured to the tunnel that proceeded off into the darkness ahead of them.

“Beyond this passage is a labyrinth. An endless maze of rock and ice full of pitfalls and traps and other dangers. I had no way of knowing how to find him. Until now.”

“Now that I’m here?” Bod asked, suspiciously. He didn’t see how his presence changed the situation at all.

“You and your guardian are linked, Bod. That’s why you’re here; why you knew to come here. When Silas left you he made sure that if you ever needed him he would know about it, but that connection works both ways. He never imagined that it would be you who needed to help him. Now that you’re here we can locate Silas, wherever he may be. All we need to do is follow your instincts.”

Bod nodded. Things were finally beginning to make more sense. That was how he had known to come all this way. How he had known that the ship would be waiting for him. He smiled, knowing that Silas had been watching over him this entire time in his own way.

While she was speaking, Celestina had removed a large pot from one of the bags and set it to the side. Now she picked it up and walked out through the fog, returning a few minutes later, the pot full of ice and snow. She set it on the fire to melt.

“What’s that for?” Bod asked.

Celestina craned her head to look at the small duffel bag that Bod had brought with him.

“Did you bring food with you?” she asked.

Bod was beginning to get slightly annoyed with her habit of answering questions with more questions.

“A few cans from the ships hold…” he said with a shrug.

“Water?”

“Uhhh… no.”

“Sleeping gear?”

“Not as such…”

“And how were you planning on getting back home?”

Bod stood silent, his cheeks beginning to flush red. He had been so focused on getting here that he hadn’t really put much thought into anything else.

“It is amazing that you have survived this long.” Celestina sighed, “I have food for another week or so and an extra sleeping bag, but all the same we should move quickly. Stew will be ready in an hour or so. After that we’ll get some rest and then begin.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The stew turned out to be the same watery beetroot-barley-stew-soup that her mother made. Bod grimaced and choked it down while Celestina watched disapprovingly. Afterwards they took out the sleeping bags and lay on opposite sides of the fire. Celestina slept soundly but Bod lay awake, staring into the dark mouth of the tunnel. Even now he felt the pull urging him on and he had to fight not to jump out of the sleeping bag and start off at once. Finally, after a long while, he dozed off only to be awakened a short time later by a hand roughly shaking his shoulder.

“You sleep like the dead.” Celestina said, kneeling beside him.

Bod groaned and sat up. It had felt like he had only just fallen asleep. The cold air and warm sleeping bag made him loathe to rise, but after a few more proddings from Celestina he finally got up.

Breakfast turned out to be dried sausage, stale bread, and cheese, but it was better than the soup, and at least it was filling. After that they packed some food and their sleeping bags and set out. Celestina had brought electric torches and they provided enough light to walk in, but did little to keep back the claustrophobic feeling that the oppressive darkness inspired.

For the first few hundred meters the tunnel continued straight ahead, But soon they hit a four way junction and paused while Bod decided which direction to continue. After a short moment he struck out to the left, but the tunnel soon forked again, and within the first hour they had taken several dozen turns.

“How will we find our way back?” Bod mused while they walked. Celestina stayed a few steps ahead of him, her eyes sharp and aware.

“I will follow our scent.” She said simply, and Bod didn’t ask for further elaboration.

“Stop.” Celestina said, putting her arm out in front of him. She sniffed the air quietly as he came to a sudden halt.

Carefully she reached down and plucked a nearly invisible string set across the path, going from wall to wall. Bod watched it vibrate and took a step back instinctively.

Celestina stepped back with him and picked up a fist-sized rock from the tunnel floor, tossing it at the string. It snapped and there was a loud grinding sound as the floor beneath it crumbled into a deep pit several feet across.

“Watch where you step.” She said to him as they peered over the edge into the pits’ darkness. Bod dropped another stone into the pit and waited to hear it hit the bottom. The sound never came.

The two of them carefully jumped across the pit, which was narrower near the walls, and continued on.

For the better part of the day they went on like this, stopping every once in a while to carefully step over another hidden wire. After he estimated they had gone some twenty-five kilometers, the tunnel began to widen, and soon they had entered a large circular room, some fifty feet across. In the center was a rectangular, vertical slab of stone a few feet high. It was crumbling and worn, and obviously old.

Celestina dropped her backpack to the ground as she peered around and sniffed the air.

“We stop here for lunch.” She said, squatting down to dig through the pack’s contents, “Go and see what that stone is, but for your sake do not touch anything.”

Bod frowned. He was no longer a child and resented being treated like one. He would have resented it from Celestina’s mother, much less from someone who didn’t seem to be much older than him. He pushed these thoughts out of his head with a sigh and approached the worn old stone.

“It’s a gravestone....” he said as he knelt down in front of it. Celestina grunted in reply and continued unpacking the things they would need to eat.

Careful not to touch the stone itself, Bod leaned forward and blew on it, scattering the layer of dust from its weathered face. When it settled he squinted at the writing in the light of his torch; he could make out a few individual letters, though the major part of the text was badly obscured with age and neglect. The first name began with a V followed by a long space, then an R. The surname might have begun with a P or an F, then another R and another space. The last few letters that were visible were a K-E-N-S, followed by a final blank space. The date of birth was completely obliterated, but the date of death read ‘September 12, 17--”. The last years of the date were also missing.

Leaning in closer to try to make out more of the inscription, Bod heard a strange noise, almost like faint, distant voices. A moment later Celestina looked up from her backpack and her ears twitched slightly.

“Quiet!” she hissed, although Bod hadn’t made a sound. He strained to hear the voices, which he now realized were coming from the headstone, and he could barely make out the words, although it grew less faint as it spoke.

“...not used in years. Bloody cold innit? No one never comes down ‘ere no more.” one gravelly voice was saying.

“Oy! I told you I smelled somefink, didn’t I?” another voice continued, “Won’t hurt a bit to take just a teensy peek, eh?”

Bod gasped and stumbled backwards, away from the gravestone.

“Ghouls!” he croaked as he stood up, grabbing his dagger from his belt, “They’re coming through!”

“Pizdă!” Celestina muttered, her eyes flashing with a primal fire, “A ghoulgate! There’s one in every graveyard. Even a graveyard of one.”

The voices stopped for a moment as Bod watched the grave, knife at the ready. He turned to look at Celestina, and instead he saw a large, red-furred wolf, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

“Skagh! Thegh! Kavagah!” the words echoed through the room as the hard, stony ground in front of the headstone crumbled around the edges and swung outward, revealing a cold, featureless plain with a hellish red light illuminating it. The light poured into the cavern, illuminating the walls with a ghostly hue as four large, gangly ghouls leaped out of the gate and looked around, quickly spotting the two of them.

“Right! See here? Told you, didn’t I your grace?” one of them said, gesturing at Bod with his long, dirty claws.

Celestina growled and took a step forward with one paw.

“Leave this place, foul creatures! You have no business here!”

The largest ghoul laughed and crouched down, folding his skeletal frame into an attack stance.

“Issat right?” he cackled, “We goes where we wants, little pet. And no flea-bitten bag ‘o meat is gonna cost us our prize after we come all this way.”

Celestina turned her head to Bod.

“Run!” she said, and pounced forward, landing on top of the nearest ghoul with a crunching sound as her teeth and claws tore at it’s thick hide. The others were on her in a moment, and Bod heard her yelp as one sank its claws into her shoulder. A quick slap with her paw sent it slamming into a wall, but it quickly shot to his feet and rejoined the fray.

Bod ran. He bolted for the far exit to the chamber, torch-beam swinging wildly in front of him as his feet padded swiftly down the dark corridor.

“Run!” he heard from behind him, amongst the crashes and yelps of battle, “Follow your instincts!”

He turned left, then right, down winding passages, following the pull that lead him farther into the maze. After a moment he heard behind him a raspy breathing and echoing footsteps.

“No use running boy!” The ghoul following him called, “The Sixth Duke of Argyll has never lost a prey yet!”

Bod felt his heart pounding inside of him as he sprinted down the tunnels, but behind him he could hear the ghoul’s mocking chuckle getting closer and closer. Finally, he turned down another tunnel and saw what he’d been looking for. He stopped running and came to a halt with a skid, turning and brandishing his knife at the creature, which stopped in surprise.

It looked at the small dagger in Bod’s hand and laughed.

“You think you scare me, boy? I got teeth sharper than that little toothpick.” he said as he started advancing on Bod.

Bod stepped backwards carefully, keeping a short distance between himself and the ghoul. As he retreated he glanced downward and cautiously stepped backward over the razor thin wire that spanned the corridor.

“I don’t know if I scare you...” bod said, still retreating, “But if you take another step I promise you’ll regret it.”

The ghoul laughed once more.

“Don’t worry none, milad. We’re not gonna eat you. Probably. We’re gonna have fun, you an me...” the ghoul said as it took a last step forward, its foot gently snapping the thin cord.

As the cave started to rumble the ghoul looked up in surprise. Bod dove backward.

“Bloody ‘ell...” the ghoul mumbled as the tunnel roof collapsed on him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Bod coughed and rolled over.

He had narrowly missed being hit by the larger falling boulders, but he was badly scraped up by some of the smaller ones and he was covered in dust and dirt. He felt around on his body, but nothing seemed to be broken.

It was pitch black in the tunnel and he had to operate by feel alone. He raised himself to his knees and felt around on the ground nearby him. He quickly located his dagger by cutting his finger open on the blade, but after a few minutes he was still unable to locate his torch. It had to have been buried in the cave-in.

“Perfect…” he groaned as he felt his way along the wall, back to the mound of rubble behind him.

He felt along the pile and carefully tried climbing it, but he soon found that the mound of rocks went all the way to the cavern’s low ceiling, effectively cutting him off from the way he’d come.

“Even better.”

He sat down for a moment to think and was surprised to see that he could actually make out the vaguest outline of his hand as his eyes adjusted. But for that to happen there had to be a light source of some kind… didn’t there?

He opened his eyes as wide as possible and found that there was a very faint glow coming from the way he’d been heading. It was dim and far away, past several turns of the tunnel, but it was definitely light.

On his hands and knees he carefully moved forward. He kept his right hand along the wall and his left in front of him, constantly searching for the fine cords that triggered the cavern’s traps. Eventually the light grew slightly brighter, and he found he could see well enough to walk, although he still moved carefully. The light was flickering, and Bod decided it must be from a fire of some kind. The pull was very, very strong now, and it was all he could do to stop himself from breaking into a run.

Finally he turned the last corner and found himself entering a large room that seemed to have been carved from the heart of the cavern complex. In one corner was a crude rock fireplace which cast an eerie light around the room. Sitting in a rickety wooden chair in front of the fire with its back to Bod was a giant. It was at least seven feet tall and heavily built, although various animal furs and rags covered most of its body. A ragged hood was drawn up over its head.

“Welcome...” the figure whispered, in a deep rumble of a voice, although he did not look up.

“So I have yet another visitor. Such a rare occasion... not rare enough.”

Bod took a step into the room and looked up, seeing that the ceiling or the room was impossibly high, stretching up into the darkness beyond the fire’s light. Hanging from the darkness by hemp ropes were large blocks of ice, perhaps fifty or so of them, each about six feet on a side. Inside the ice were dark shadows, almost humanoid in shape, although Bod couldn’t make out the features.

“Who are you?” Bod asked, his voice all but lost in the lofty, open heights of the cavern.

The figure grunted.

“Names. People always want names. I had a name once. The first name. But that name is lost now. Gone with the man who gave it to me.”

Bod shivered. He didn’t know what the creature was talking about, but it was obvious that the memory was a painful one.

“Sir...” he said, not knowing what else to call it, “I’m looking for a friend of mine. My guardian. He came this way.”

The figure laughed; a dry, rusty laugh that shook his frame. Slowly, he unfolded his giant body from the creaking chair and turned around. He stepped towards Bod and drew back his hood. His face was a mass of scars and lumps, disfigured beyond belief. Jagged stitches ran across it like a railway map and the features were distorted and cold.

Bod gasped and stepped backward instinctively.

“Yes.” the creature said softly, “Your friend had much the same reaction, and that is not a minor thing from one such as him. Oh yes, I know what he was. He was like me. He was someone who did not fit. But he fits here. You see, he is the crowning jewel of my collection...”

Bod looked up once more and realized with dawning horror that the pull of his mind was pointing him towards one particular block of ice. He peered up at it and saw in the flickering firelight that it was Silas’ form buried in the cold, frozen tableau.

Quickly Bod pulled his knife and pointed it at the creature.

“Stay back!” he said, “I don’t know what you are, but...”

“But what?” the figure interrupted, his voice cold and emotionless, “Your guardian couldn't defeat me. You are tired... weak... mortal... what makes you believe you will fair better?”

Bod looked up one more time at the block of ice hanging from the single thin rope and sighed. He felt the weight of the knife in his hand. From the corridor behind him he heard a noise, a faint scraping sound, like the quick padding of claws on stone. It was growing louder with each moment.

“I can’t defeat you.” Bod said, “I’m just a man. But I have something you don’t.”

The creature chuckled and stepped closer.

“And what is that?”

Bod grinned.

“Friends.”

With one fast fluid movement he sent the blade hurling into the air. It tumbled end over end once and hit its mark perfectly, snapping the rope that held Silas supported over the cavern. Bod and the creature both stepped backward as the block of ice shattered on the ground with a deafening crash that sent a spray of ice shards at both of them.

“No!” The creature shouted, looking down at Silas’ form lying among the jagged pieces of ice on the cavern floor. He turned and lunged at Bod.

“My trophy!” he cried as his huge fist connected with Bod’s face. Bod was sent flying backwards, his body slamming into the hard stone wall of the cavern, his head striking it with a crack. He slid to the ground, dazed and dizzy. As his consciousness faded he was aware of the red shadow leaping from the corridor behind him, the dark figure rising from the floor. He felt himself slipping into darkness; black unconsciousness swallowed him as the sounds of cold fury erupted nearby, joined by a great wailing and gnashing of teeth.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing that Bod felt was warmth. The second thing was pain. His head ached horribly and his throat was dry and raspy. Every muscle in his body was sore.

He opened his eyes, but his vision was fuzzy. He could hear strange sounds around him, as though they were far away and muffled by a layer of cotton gauze. Sitting next to him was a blurry red shadow that slowly began to resolve itself.

“He’s awake.” a voice said. It was a familiar voice, but Bod couldn't place it. He tried to sit up, but his head exploded in a blaze of color and light. He gasped at the sharp dagger of pain it brought and laid his head back down on something soft.

“No, no...” the voice said, and he suddenly remembered that it was Miss Lupescu’s voice. No. That wasn’t right.

“Don’t try to sit up. You took a nasty hit. You are a very stubborn man. Stubborn, but lucky.”

Celestina. The shape finally resolved itself into her smiling face and bright red hair looking down at him. She had one hand on his chest and the other on his forehead, stopping him from trying to sit up again, although he doubted he would be trying it again any time soon. There was a long gash on her shoulder and her face had a number of small cuts, but they seemed to already be healing.

“You had us worried, Nobody Owens.” said another familiar voice. Silas stepped into his field of view, his arms folded in front of him as he looked down at his former ward. His skin was blue instead of pale, and his clothing was wet; in any other settig the effect would have been comical. Otherwise, Silas seemed none the worse for his frozen hibernation.

“I always knew we would meet again, Bod, but I never thought it would be like this.”

Bod looked around and saw that they were still in the same room. The warmth he felt was the warmth of the fire, which they had laid him in front of on some thick furs.

“Silas...” he said, his voice raspy, “The creature... is he...”

“Dealt with.” Silas said simply, squatting down next to Bod, “Celestina and I dispatched him. That was very quick thinking in freeing me, Bod. I doubt either of us could have handled him alone.”

“Speak for yourself, old man.” Celestina said with a smile.

Bod managed to smile. He looked up and saw the numerous blocks of ice still hanging from the darkness above.

“What are they?” he asked faintly, his eyes moving from one to the next.

“The creature’s victims.” Celestina said with a sigh, “Poor souls who wandered into this maze and never wandered out. Apparently there is more than one entrance. There is nothing we can do for them. At least there will be no more.”

Bod nodded very slightly, mindful of the pain in his head. He turned his head and looked at Silas.

“I thought you said you didn’t get into trouble?" he said with a half grin.

Silas gave raised an eyebrow at him and reached out his hand.

“It is good to see you again, Nobody Owens.”

Bod reached up and clasped his ex-guardian’s cold hand.

“It’s good to see you too.”


End file.
